Friends
by Blackened Cure
Summary: Hold me, I am fading. Tell me what I am, please. Just this one thing, for the rest of my eternity. A poll-winner one-shot.


"_I am human when I am marred by flesh, animal when cloaked in fur, immortal when I burn" – Book Of The Dead, Translated (Egyptian Literature)_

* * *

Friends

_A poll-prize one-shot._

* * *

_I wondered once, what it would be like if I had a normal life... would I be here? Would I still follow every order I was given? What if... what if I had a child? Maybe even married? What if..._

Her mind wondered on.

So many things she could have done; so _many_ people she could have been, so_ many _lives she could've lived, just to be thrown away like a rag-doll on the battlefield.

Pein was dead; her allegiance faltered, her reason for existence extinguished, her love murdered by his cause...

But some were still alive.

Not her for much longer though; Sound had proven to be stronger then assumed, leaving a missing medic, a large portion of the neighboring nations retreating their remaining forces, all the Akatsuki half-dead, and resilient delirium to flourish among the fading.

But _he _was still alive, intact, looking, searching... and found.

She was in horrid condition, her blue hair splayed about her, a large portion of her torso was deformed due to her not recovering from her separation jutsu, pieces of her garments lost in constant molecular fluxing.

She was losing this battle despite her victory in the outside world; shaking and shivering in her own blood as she went into shock. Her body was phasing in-and-out of cohesion; her molecules coming apart at the seams and back together again.

Soon, there will be nothing left of her.

Itachi sunk to his knees beside her quivering form in the mud and gripped her wrist, pushing his thumb into her main artery and pressed his chakra-laced palm to the thin flesh and bone that covered her heart just as he had been taught; paying no heed to her lack of proper clothes, forcing her body to stop its convulsions.

"Konan," he called, and if she was anything close to conscious, she would have heard his deep, strong voice tremble. "Konan, can you hear me?"

Her body tried again to convulse and separate; he sent another chakra pulse to keep it stable. He released her wrist in favor of her forehead, pulling back her eyelids to find them rolled in the back of her head, her body refusing her last words to be voiced.

"Konan!" he growled, forcing her to attention by putting pressure on her frontal lobe.

"It..chi..." she sputtered, blood pouring from her mouth.

He ripped his shirt off in an attempt to cover her; protecting her from the cold that ravaged her devastated form, chunks of skin turning to paper then withering.

"Ita...chi..." she sputtered once more, blue-green eyes meeting obsidian.

And she saw.

He was so close to her that their noses almost touched, his now-oily black hair tickling her collarbone as he leaned over her. His face remained the same as she remembered it; give or take a few new gashes lining his face, but his eyes were wide with concern, possibly even... fear?

_Eyes are like windows to the soul._

"Ah," he sighed, showing obvious appeasement in his voice, but his body language still exuded concern, never letting his hand stray from her heart.

"Not...mucks loncur..." she choked as blood soon filled her throat, causing him to push another pulse through her. "Lis..en.."

And so he did.

He waited for the words to come, his eyes spilling silent sadness; even Sakura would say she was too far gone to recover, just waiting for her time to come. He had placed his free hand first on her neck, clearing her airways to speak clearly, and then on the back of her head, messaging her scalp in a soothing manner meant to relax her, to comfort her.

"Find her...love her," the blue-haired woman huffed, gasping for every word. "She.. taught you.. everything...leave me..."

"Not like this," he commanded, bringing her to a sitting position. "We'll find her together."

"Leave me... or burn... me.." she struggled, her eyes widened with shock as her form shook uncontrollably.

His face finally betrayed the deep sadness he felt, along with realization that she can't hold on much longer. He grew closer to her ear when she stopped her seizure, whispering, "Thank you."

Her eyes searched his, lips moving with no sound, wordlessly asking what for, even though she already knew the answer.

"For being my friend," he murmured softly, pulling her to him with her head against his chest, his chin resting upon her forehead and arms around her holding tight, her fragile mascara tears trailing down his marbled torso.

A tender smile touched the remnants of her face as she used the remainder of her strength in putting her hands around him in a futile attempt at a hug; but she was happy to know... that she wasn't truly alone.

"Friends.."

"Forever," he finished, lowering his lips to kiss her on the forehead. "Always forever, Konan."

"Thank you..."

And then there was silence.

Her body became rigid then slack; her arms dropped lifelessly around him, holding no glimmer in her eyes as they stared on... but her smile never faded.

Hot tears flowed from his eyes, surprising himself at his capability to cry, nestling his cheek against her head in a failing effort to keep her warm. He ached again, just like before with his friends, his family, with his brother, so many....

She reminded him of his humanity, his emotions, his compassions....and how valuable life is.

He let her burn away from his arms in a black flame, her ghostly smile haunting his vision endlessly. The fire raged on after he retreated to look for the others, smoldering even when her ashes were gathered into a jar and put six feet under.

Some believed she still burned for redemption, to be remembered for what she did, who she truly was....

* * *

_2 Years Later..._

He stepped upon the stone steps that used to lead towards the old battleground, his black hair a cascade down his formal robes, pale aged skin and his coal-black eyes weary with grief, carrying a small white box within his hands along the way.

He had arrived at the graveyard with further travel; gravestones lined straight in a path now, leave no traces of the former carnage of that day except the graves and memorial tower, where all those who fought here had their names listed in honor. He was not one of them, simply because he was alive.

The irony of it was sickening.

He weaved through the tombs of lives past like a visiting ghost; he knew this path well enough to walk in his sleep, yet had never come before now. It was never a question why.

He finally came to his destination; a cracked marble gravestone with a faded engraving of an angel and script, kneeling at its base with the box on the altar.

And so he spoke in the best way he knew how, stoically and straight-faced.

"I have been trying to improve on my small-talk, you know..."

He paused. Looking at the box before him, he lifted the lid while grimacing, the memory haunting him once more.

"I thought you might like to know," he began, his voice quivering like it did back in the day, "That I figured out how.... how to make your origami roses, Konan."

With that, he turned the box up-side down, spilling out countless intricate paper roses onto the ground, covering her grave as snow would cover the earth. Some blew in the wind, scattering amongst the others, yet it looked as if several bushes gave bloom all at once where most remained.

He swore he heard a whisper in the wind; words he heard once before. His eyes caught glimpse of blue, making him turn to see, facing the unexpected before him.

A woman stood robed in white, her blue hair reaching the end of her back and ocher-blue eyes sparkled with life unknown, a smile ear-to-ear on her face, all while leaning forward with an outstretched hand, touching his left cheek.

"_Thank you," _she whispered.

"That's what friends are for," he stated, his lips turning upward. "Always."

He smiled as she gradually disappeared; she was at peace now.

He rose from his spot on the ground, his soul somewhat reborn. He knew he should have come before now, but the guilt he felt was drowning him, and he never thought he could step another foot among those stones again. Something also stuck itself into his memory; an action that was so rare to both of them.

She smiled for him, and he would never forget it.


End file.
